Myuuted
by The GirlieGyarados
Summary: Scary little story about The Myuutsu Project. The title is a pun off of 'Myuu' or 'Myuutsu' and the word 'muted'. If you like my usual Gyarados stories, you should like this.


Myuuted  
***  
  
A/N: One of the (very few) Mewtwo fics I think I'll write. Don't get me wrong, I love the dude, but I just can't seem to write much with him as the main character. Anyways, this here was inspired by a book of writing exercises. No, this is not one of exercises, but an author commenting on a scenario he'd set up, which is summarized as this: Two Siamese twins...joined at the face. Which is more unfortunate? The brother who has the privilege of seeing the world and its' scorns and horror at his twin, or the one without eyes, with only half a face, incapable of seeing and realizing his own ugliness? And I started thnking about that, and I was hit by a wave of inspiration and churned this out.  
  
A/N: Like I have done before with Gyarados, not everything about a particular pokemon in here is Nintendo-confirmed, most of it is just the logical conclusions I draw; as they leave so much out about their creations.  
  
Warning: As with Society of Ditto, eerieness and symbolism abound, so if you don't think you can handle it, turn around now. Plus, this here contains graphic descriptions of Giovanni's cruelty. I'm serious, these are WAY nasty, I even grossed myself out writing this-and I have never done that before. So, if you ignore this warning, read on, and ended up mentally scarred with burned retinas, it's not my problem.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own MewTwo, or Myuutsu, and I don't own the writing prompt. Are we all happy now?  
  
***  
  
_THUMP-thump, THUMP-thump, THUMP-thump..._  
  
This was the sort of sound that was heard in the lab, not the sound of a heartbeat, but the sound of the tanks, pumping, pumping...  
  
_THUMP-thump, THUMP-thump, THUMP-thump..._  
  
Taking away waste, bringing in nutrients, oxygen.  
  
_THUMP-thump, THUMP, thump, THUMP-thump..._  
  
Steady and sure, never wavering, on the second, every second.  
  
_THUMP-thump, THUMP, thump, THUMP-thump..._  
  
..Tick-tock, Tick-tock, to the scientists.  
  
Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin  
  
Weighed and found wanting.  
  
Only a matter  
  
_THUMP-thump, THUMP, thump, THUMP-thump..._  
  
Of time.  
  
Just a matter of time before Giovanni found out, found out that he wasn't getting what he wanted, and then..  
.   
_THUMP-thump, THUMP-thump, THUMP-thump..._  
  
Then that steady rhythm, that steady thump-thump, would change. It would become something more of a groan, a moan, and the sound of shearing metal and shattering glass, as Giovanni backed up the pipes, backed them up and choked the island with sewage, with refuse, with poison. The island was uninteresting, just a desolate heap of rock, little more than the remains of a dead volcano, poking up out of the middle of the ocean. Only Team Rocket knew about the litle cavern, the little cavern that became one of the many bases for the Myuutsu Operation.   
  
When they set out, the scientists knew: Make the ultimate warrior, or die. A most ugly, painful, and sickening death, no less. They had seven years. Seven years, seven months, seven weeks, seven days, and seven hours. Then...  
  
Then, Giovanni would back up the pipes. Those pipes carried away the human's sewage and garbage; food scraps, ruined clothes, and other such disgusting things. They also supplied the fresh water, clean water; if they were backed up, the clean water would stop. Much more horrible, however, was the waste from the lab: The horrible stuff that contained ammonia, lye, hydrochloric acid. Arsenic, crude oil, gasoline. The various mutagens, the waste from the reactor, and, of course, the corpses of half-human, half Pokemon "mistakes", creatures who either held out comatose for weeks or immediately ripped themselves apart in convulsions in the tanks, blood, bile, and mucus swirling down the drain along with the transfixed bodies.   
  
All that would back up into the base; and a lot of it, too; Giovanni had created an enormous tank where the refuse was stored, some of it draining off into the ocean, but always, that tank was swimming in foulness. Giovanni would close a valve, the valve that allowed the contents of the tank to drain off into the ocean. He could do this at anytime he felt that they were using up more funding than they were worth; with no warning, no matter what the result of the weekly reports. He could close that valve and reverse the pump, and pump the poison into the base, destroying it in about a week, if that. Giovanni had also made certain that no boats or aircraft were to be docked at the base; their necessary supplies were dropped off by helicoptors at a landing pad, and then, the helicoptor would lift off and leave. The scientists were essentially marooned there, without any hope of rejoining civilization if the "pink slip project", as it was referred to by so many Rockets because of it's high death toll (85% fatalities for twelve years running), was not cut short.  
  
And then...  
  
And then, perhaps three, four days after the decision to back up the pipes was made, when the surviving rockets were sick and weak, then...  
  
Then, huge airlifts would come. Not for rescue, though. The airlifts, they contained some of the "pink-slip projecteers' " families. Considering the tendency of Rocket membership to run in the family, it would not be hard for Giovanni to get his hands on their families, children too young to belong, oldsters too weak and feeble to be worth anything anymore, and older children, brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts uncles, parents and lovers who were bumblers, rebellious, or in other ways just a shoe-in for the pink-slip project. And if their families were not a part of Team Rocket, well, so much the better; they would be even easier to get at, for they wold not attempt to flee when they found their friend, lover, or relative had just joined onto Death Base.  
  
Giovanni would bring them to the ruined base, sometimes weakened, sometimes not. And after he dumped them on the island, he would wait long enough to make sure that the survivors and the newcomers had found each other, he would wait that long, and then the second load would be dumped.  
  
Dozens upon dozens of Feraligat'r would be dropped onto the island and the waters near it.  
  
Feraligat'r, because Gyarados does not hunt man without provocation, Tentacruel doesn't do the whole 'out of water' thing very well, and Blastoise are herbivorus.  
  
But Feraligat'r...Feraligat'r is an active predator, not sedentary like Tentacruel and Blastoise. And, most importantly: Feraligat'r are confirmed man-hunters. One of the very few species of pokemon that will seek out humans as a preferable prey, Feraligat'r would swarm the island, thinking "Jackpot!" as the weakened humans try to run away and hide. A Feraligat'r's powerful jaws rip into an adult human the way a steak knife rips though a bologna loaf. Sometimes, the prey is ripped into two pieces before swallowing, sometimes it's merely mauled a bit to break bones that would cause problems later, but no matter what, Feraligat'r always eat their food while it's still alive. Adults get a biting or a mauling; young children don't even get that, Feraligat'r just have to tip their heads back and...  
  
Twenty-four hours after the drop-off, the Feraligat'r will be the only living things on the island. Then, the Rockets come back and collect them and new work is started on repairing the facility for the next victims.   
  
I mean scientists, of course.  
_THUMP-thump, THUMP-thump, THUMP-thump..._  
  
So, all the scientists listened to the pipe beat out what might soon be their death march, and worked feverishly, not daring to hope that theirs was the _one_.  
  
Not daring to hope that the current occupants of Tank #0320 would be the one.  
***  
Just a wave of inpsiration, hope you like, I don't really have anything to say except that my Feraligat'r assistant Egro is really really happy that I finally gave "his people" some respect. -_-;;;;;; Idjut lizard...Anyhum, here we have the Fic of the Day:  
If this story makes you think that I am such a loser for actually thinking that was eerie and exciting and crap, then check out REAL eerieness in Revelations: A Cynic's View of Pokemon (Storyid: 585164) By CorianderWryters (userid: 165090) Tell him I sent you! He knows me. ;P  
And Now, for the Last Laugh:  
"What is a camp created solely for mass murder?"  
"Noah's house"  
-American history-we keep it interesting....  



End file.
